Being accepted into Cambridge University has made me an absolute legend at school, for obvious reasons.

I was bombarded with support from many of my schoolmates, including my only two friends, constantly reaffirming that I was a "posh twat." Of course, how could I expect anything less from this quality collection of inbred dickheads? But maybe I was a twat, I was stupid enough to think that after spending almost seven years with the same bunch of angsty teenagers- some of which I'd spent even longer with- maybe there'd be a little bit of respect. Maybe, now that we're almost legal adults, there'd be a little bit of- I don't know- maturity? But no, the bunch of absolute wankers I'd grown up with were doomed to spend the rest of their shitty lives shitting on other people.

"To be fair, you do sound like a bit of a posh twat right now Chez." Niamh flashed her crooked grin as she always did when she wanted to rile me up. As soon as she did I forgot what we were talking about. "You're filled with all that teen angst. Read a horny vampire book, write a fan-fic, get it out of your system, man." She was right, I was filled with a shit ton of teen angst. Not only was I pissed off about everyone taking the piss out of me for getting accepted into one of the best Universities in the country, but I was also, agonisingly, still a virgin. On top of being chronically single and painfully infatuated with one of my best-est friends of eight years.

Niamh crushed her cigarette against the school's brick wall and I readjusted my school blazer to hide the pop-up ad in my trousers. "Are you getting the bus then?"

"Uh, no. Mum's picking me up. Fence broke in the storm last night so mum needs me to help Ewan fix it." Which I already knew meant I would have to fix it whilst Ewan berated me for 'being a fag cuz I don't know how to do anything right.'

"Aye, it was mad last night. My sister's swing set took off, she was raging." Niamh shrugged and we headed down to the school gates to wait for pick-up. I would've rather gotten the bus with her. Then I could have a panic attack whilst sitting next to her and imagining I was asking her out.

Mum pulled up at the school gates pretty quickly, I turned and raised my arm to wave at Niamh but she was busy talking to Mike and Liam- the only two others from Cornwood Village in our year. So I turned back to my mum's Ford focus with my right arm awkwardly dangling in mid-air like a t-rex and slouched into the front seat. Mum immediately began droning on about the fence so I tuned out and focused instead on how pathetic my existence was.

As prone as I was to feeling existential, today just had a way of weighing me down. Maybe it's the fact that nobody cared about my acceptance into Cambridge, maybe it's the fact that Liam spent the hour and a half morning bus route telling me about how he was gonna 'give it' to Niamh before the school year was out. If Niamh heard what he was saying she'd 'give' him something and it would be nothing to brag about.

But maybe it wasn't that. Maybe it was the broken fence and the looming responsibility of having to fix it all the while being slagged off by mum's fuck buddy. Most likely it was all of those things combined.

Mum insisted I have dinner before 'we' start work on the fence, which didn't make Ewan very happy as he'd already told me I had to clear away all remains of the last fence before he would 'help me' put up the new one and because I had school tomorrow morning he knew I'd have to be in bed by at least half ten. Giving me only four hours to clear the garden for him to be able to start work on it tomorrow. I was glad of it though, I was happy I wouldn't have to talk to the knobhead at least tonight. Ewan had a superiority complex when it came to DIY, even though he was pretty shit at it and it gave him anger issues. Plus, being outside alone would probably help me chill out.

That was one good thing about living in the country with no one around you, you had this massive garden and all these cool trees and wildlife just living around you, and at night you could always see the stars and the moon was ten times brighter because there was nothing around to compete with it, and there was no eerie silences, there were always birds, squirrels and foxes making these ambient sounds to keep you company. I'd loved our garden so much that I'd begged my dad to help make me a tree house as a kid. He finally did, right before he left, as an act of defiance against my mum. Trying to prove that he was a good dad, he'd turned the garden shed into a kind of make shift tree house. It had been shit and I was twelve and not really interested in the idea anymore, but after he left I clung to that house as some desperate way of trying to prove he'd been here once, and he'd cared. It had the added bonus of helping me escape from step-dick.

My mind was a cluttered mess, Ewan was spending all of dinner berating my abilities to clean the garden even though I hadn't started yet. I didn't pay much attention to him though, my mind was focused on other things. Maybe once I was done in the gardens I could start pricing student accommodation. Normally, I would've been pretty pissed off about having to do Ewan's work whilst I needed to focus on my upcoming exams and preparing to move but today had given me a lot more things to be stressed out about. Like Niamh and Liam and my lack of social life.

"Charlie, you know Auntie Vic just had her new baby?" Mum cut Ewan off softly. Ewan had been going on about how I might gain some muscle if I did some real work. Prick. I'd like to believe my mum was cutting in for my benefit, as a kind of 'shut the fuck up' to Ewan. But I could see from her face she was just trying to get me to pay attention to the conversation.

"No mum, I haven't seen her in ages, remember?" It seemed like a random thing to bring up in the middle of the 'garden chores crisis'.

"Well, they've come down here to visit grandad so we were going to just pop by after dinner, alright love?" Mum wasn't even looking at me as she said this, she was too busy helping Daisy chop up her baby carrots. "Are you alright to start work on the fence tonight whilst we're gone?" It was like she wasn't even in the room this whole time. Whether Ewan was at my grandad's or not he wasn't going to help me clear the broken fence away, he'd spent the whole dinner saying that!

I was used to feeling invisible but I just wasn't motivated enough to deal with it today, call it teenage hormones or whatever, I think I was just running out of patience for this dull existence. I was so close to getting out, I just had to cling on for a little longer.

"I'm done eating, mum. I'll get started on it now, 'kay?" No one was really paying attention apart from Daisy who tried to crawl out of her chair to follow me, as she always did after dinner. Mum fixed Daisy up, not even noticing me leave but I could feel Ewan's eyes follow me out of the room.

"Use the shovel to dig the broken pieces out, boy, the tools are in the shed out back. And don't forget to fill the holes back in!" Ewan called after me.

"I'll fill your fucking hole." I muttered, clenching my jaw and trying not to cringe at how pathetic and pervy a comeback that was- even though I only said it to myself. Well, at least I'm not pretending to be something I'm not, unlike that asshole. I should've said THAT to him.

There was one part of the job mum and step-dick had forgotten to tell me. Mum probably left it out intentionally, Ewan most likely didn't care enough to mention it. I'm surprised Daisy didn't babble it out at some point. That being that my shit tree house, my safe haven, had a massive fucking hole in the roof.

At that point, it all became too much. I tried to repress a lump in my throat by pretending it wasn't there. I tried to pretend I was more angry than sad, but it wasn't true. I thought briefly about going in and crying to mum about it, but my chest burned with rage picturing what Ewan would say to me as soon as mum looked away. So instead, I stumbled toward my broken home. I suppose this could be seen as symbolic, destroy all those childish things I won't need anymore. I mean, I can't take a tree house to University. Besides, this house had a lot of bad memories associated with it too. It was even built from anger. But deep down I had to admit how much it hurt me to see it this way. The steps were about the only thing in tact, the wind had blown the door off its hinges and something must've blown onto the roof caving the whole thing inwards. It was never far off the ground, more of a garden shed than a tree house to begin with, but it had been surprisingly sturdy for six years.

I looked up at the tree the structure had been built on, trying to find where a branch might've broken off and noticed for the first time how still the night was. You would have never suspected that only thirteen hours earlier the storm was so intense it had blown a street lamp into old Mr Stock's toyota (Ewan had rambled on about it at some point during dinner). I took a sweeping look around at the damage done to the garden and just to help it sink in that I'd have to clean it all myself, the sound of mum's car leaving sounded from the driveway.

I pushed back the door, swinging half-off from its frame and thought about how, at the very least, I could incorporate this into a global warming essay for my Science coursework. But there were no large branches inside my tree house. The only notable thing apart from the rubble, was a limp, human foot poking out from under it all.

My tree house hadn't been destroyed in a storm. Some homeless/drunk cunt had broken into it! Through the fucking roof!

My cheeks burned and my eyes near bulged out of my skull. I raised my leg to kick the bum but quickly thought better of it, being self-aware enough to know that I am a massive pussy who will get their teeth kicked in. I backed up towards the broken door, admitting to myself that an ex-military step-dad would be pretty useful in this potentially life-threatening situation (I'm not a coward if there's justifiable reasons to be afraid).

In the middle of my down-right heroic escape to get help, I accidentally whacked my fist into the previously stuck, sturdy, wooden door and it fell backwards, emitting a loud creak and an even louder crash.

I knew I was fucked. Still I didn't dare move any more. My shoulders were painfully clenched, anticipating what would happen next. My mouth tasted sour and metallic, I'd bitten down on my lip too hard.

I knew this day was out to get me, I don't know what I did to throw off my Karma but it must've been severe to get me into this situation.

The hobo's foot stirred from under the wooden boards and I heard it moan groggily.

But it was a girl's moan! My laptop had helped me grow accustomed to that noise long ago.

But it didn't make any sense? Cornwood is a small village and my house is a converted farm house right on the outskirts. There's no homeless in Cornwood from what I've seen, especially not any homeless women! I mean- not that I'm suggesting women can't be homeless, I'm not sexist or anything it's just- well, I've not seen any.

The situation just felt too absurd, facts weren't clicking together. Even if she was homeless she'd have to be pretty desperate and very specific to come here of all places. Plus, why would she go through the tree house? Our gate is tied together with an old dog collar (Ewan never bothered fixing the lock).

All movements stopped. This girl wasn't going to jump out and attack me. As I stared at the limp foot, grimy, no sock, no shoes, unmoving, it dawned on me that maybe something was seriously wrong with her. Maybe she was some kind of a runaway from the village. In that case, I'd probably recognize her.

The long, wooden board covered her body entirely. Carefully, I leaned over, grasped the edge and flicked it backwards with instant regret.

The girl's crumpled body lay, bruised and bloody, abnormally flat, every inch of skin so pale it was almost blue. Her face was bent backwards in an abnormal, painful looking way. She was impossible to look at and impossible to look away from.

My body reacted instantly, wrenching away in horror to the furthest corner of the room. I wanted to leave, I wanted to run from there, I wanted to scream my terror-

But I couldn't. My eyes moved without my wanting them too, taking in the sticky, red, tar like substance coating the girl's stomach and covering the floor. I didn't dare to even blink, I felt as if I was in a Mexican stand-off with a ghost.

My hands twitched, fingers rubbing together and I realised that even they were coated. Though I couldn't tell how that had happened.

Bile rose in my throat, instinctively I gagged and swallowed it back. I tried to congratulate myself for not being sick but it was hard to gather a cohesive thought whilst I was panicking.

My heart was still hammering, the scene was getting blurrier as I scrambled for an idea on what to do. You can't call an ambulance for a bloody corpse, can you? Do I call the police?

And then a thought trickled into my mind which made my blood run cold. Leaving me feeling like I'd been injected with poison.

What if they think I did it?

I wanted to get away. I had to get away. the only thing my mind could scream at me was run, run run! You can't save her, you can't even save yourself! She's dead. Run!

I managed to inhale a shaky breath, my heart lurched at the sound of movement which I soon realised was my own feet.

"Gggrah!"

But that- that sound wasn't mine.

The rhythm of heart pounded in my ears and gave me a headache, the furious beating hurt my chest. The stress hurt my lungs for how sharply I was breathing, this time for good reason.

I still wanted to run but my head had whipped back around of its own accord. My eyes landed on a pale, blue and black hand with fingernails coated in dried blood reaching forward. Reaching towards me! The corpse's- girl's eyes, the brightest gold I'd ever seen! Not hazel but pure gold- were open and staring so intensely into my own. Her mouth was parted, with an almost slack jawed expression, as if she was in shock.

"He- aaah!" She was as breathless and as helpless as I felt. I wanted to compel her to speak somehow and to tell me what had happened, how she'd gotten here, how to help her. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would be alright like a normal person would. I wanted to call for help. I wanted to help.

But I didn't even speak. Neither did she, her mouth moved as it struggled to find words, in the end she didn't find any. She kept her hand outstretched towards me as she strained her neck further forward, trying to heave her body into a sitting position.

I wanted to tell her not to do that, that surely it must hurt, that it couldn't do her any good. My shoulders hunched towards her, my knees rested on the ground. My body was moving towards her of its own accord. Fear had frozen me but now fear jolted me into moving faster than I ever had before.

Her mouth softened and almost closed. Her eyes glazed over and rolled up until her startling, gold irises had disappeared and nothing remained but white.

I didn't get to her before her head thudded against the debris.